But That's When the Bag Slipped Out Of His Hand
by RenegadeChicklet
Summary: With the help of a few magical items on their 8th grade retreat, a group of girls are planning an exciting night for their teachers and classmates. Mwahahahahaha!


**But That's When the Bag Slipped…**

**Summary:** With the help of a few magical items on their 8th grade retreat, a group of girls are planning an exciting night for their teachers and classmates. Mwahahahahaha!

**Disclaimer:** All indicia to the _Harry Potter_ book series © J.K. Rowling. Isn't she the best? XP

**Author's Notes:** All sixty-three 8th graders from St. Chucky's are taking their yearly retreat at the beginning of the year to go to Camp Gallagher. The girls are all sleeping in one big cabin whilst the boys are spread out among the property in three cabins: the A-frame, Rainier View, and Hilltop. The camp is located by a lake and is stationed in the midst of a very dense forest. Yeah, just thought you'd like to know what's going on…

"On a Monday I am waiting for an essay I am hating, and by Wednesday I can't sleep. Then the clock rings and I hear you; in the darkness is a clear view: You've come to torture me." I sang about my horrible English teacher as loudly as I could, while the girls in the other room droned on about "All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me…"

"Please," I rolled my eyes as the Ace gang laughed hysterically at the new lyrics. Pulling my face into constipation mode, I sang mockingly, "Grades… With you they fall so fast. Your class just fucking sucks… There's no way I'll pass…"

Now all the other girls were turning around, some looking much less amused.

"God Anne, you're ruining the song!" Taylor placed her hands on her hip, one of them jutted out to the left, making her look like a flamingo who wasn't used to standing on two legs.

"Pardon, Mademoiselle Flamingo, but it'd be rather difficult to ruin that 'song' even more after you sang it." Ellen, my fencing amigo said with a French accent, ("Touché!") curtseying slightly. Apparently I wasn't the only one who noticed her strange stance.

"What_ever_." Taylor stalked away on her itty-bitty stickly legs like a praying mantis.

Chuckling, I strolled back to my bunk and continued to unpack…

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Meanwhile…

In the middle of a dense forest, Ludo Bagman sat helplessly on a moss-covered rock holding a dog bone. "How could I have taken the wrong portkey?" He wondered, setting his brown tattered bag by a nearby tree.

He'd been traveling for three hours straight now, and admittedly could not perform a portus spell to get back to Diagon Alley where he had been squandering his newly-gambled money at pubs, Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, Zonko's Joke Shop, and the other gag stores.

Sighing feebly, Ludo's eyes began to close from utter exhaustion…

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"Reckon this is Bagman?" The 'Magical Transportation Officer' asked his partner, pointing at the drooling drunkard leaned against a rock.

"Er, well there's no other tubby, squinty-eyed, squash-nosed, blonde bloke around, is there Kiffle?" His partner circled around the rock, searching for any other signs of life. (a/n: Well not that Ludo looked _alive_…)

"You don't suppose this man could be an impersonating hobo, do you Faxon?" Kiffle suggested, eyeing the now-snoring man suspiciously.

"Nah, this guy is holding the portkey." Faxon pointed at the chewed up dog bone. (a/n: Hey, you get hungry when you're stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing to eat.)

"Hmph." Kiffle tapped his foot impatiently and looked at his watch. "Well we'd better be reporting back to the Ministry soon; my son's got a trial with the Wizengamot in an hour."

"What'd Jimmy do this time?" Faxon asked, poking Bagman in the stomach with his wand, trying to wake him up.

"No use trying that if he's drunk," Kiffle nodded to Bagman who had stopped snoring but continued to drool large puddles. "Ah, he's been orchestrating the market for flying carpets again." He shook his head, chuckling. "Only sixteen and he already knows the economics of the magical world like the back of his hand."

"Merlin's beard!" Faxon yelled, blinking at the time displayed on his watch, "Quick, grab the fat bloke and his things! The portkey is scheduled in less than a minute for the Ministry!"

Jumping about in panic, Kiffle grabbed Ludo by the collar and took the bone from his hand. "Ewwww…" He made a disgusted face as he held the bone which was still dripping with slobber.

"Alright," said Faxon anxiously, I've got his bag as well, so…"

"EEEEEEEEEKKK!!!" Ludo leapt awake, screaming like a girl, (a/n: No offense.) "K-k-karkaroff wearing a kilt and cardigan!"

"What!?!" Faxon spun around just as the portkey began to activate. Realizing Ludo had only been dreaming, his reflexes allowed him to grab the portkey just in time. But that's when the bag slipped out of his hand…


End file.
